


coffee catastrophes

by wyvernknighted



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fluff, Laurent does in fact wear a bowtie in this one, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernknighted/pseuds/wyvernknighted
Summary: Things in Gerome’s life aren’t always easy, but at least he gets along well with his roommate, Laurent. They agree on most aspects of domestic life, to the point that living with him has become, of all things, a comfort. And he’s even managed to hide his longstanding crush on the guy for a while now.That is, until he experiences a moment of weakness one morning. Gerome’s day takes a turn towards the irredeemably embarrassing when he forgets that he and his roommate aren’t actually dating yet and kisses him on the forehead.
Relationships: Gerome/Loran | Laurent
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	coffee catastrophes

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a bit since my last gerolau so. here's another
> 
> This is rated T just because Gerome and a few others swear.
> 
> Also thank you to [mageknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mageknight/pseuds/mageknight) for helping me develop this concept when I first came up with it, your input is invaluable and I appreciate you <3 (please ignore how long it took me to post this :v)

The day had started innocuous enough. Laurent rose a few minutes before his alarm sounded, his body accustomed to waking with the sunrise. He did not waste time lying in bed, for his routine called. He hopped in the shower first, then back to his room to get dressed, and then to the kitchen for breakfast. As he was examining his coffee stores, he heard the soft steps of his roommate approach from behind.

“Good morning, Gerome.” Gerome grunted his usual incoherent greeting in response. He was not a morning person. “I actually have a request, if you do not mind the imposition.”

“What?” Gerome blinked, his eyes still drowsy from sleep. In all regards, he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. He still wore his oversized sleeping shirt, most likely intending to change out of it before work, tucked into a pair of jeans. His unruly hair stuck up in messy tufts, in desperate need of a comb. He even had a smudge of toothpaste in the corner of his mouth. Laurent forgot his original question for a moment, stepping towards Gerome.

“You have a spot of toothpaste.” Laurent gestured to the spot on his own face. Gerome attempted to swat it away, but after the third failed attempt, Laurent stepped forward to help. “Here.” He said, wiping it away with his thumb. It was a quick moment, but Gerome still froze awkwardly beneath his touch. “My apologies,” Laurent said as he stepped away, wiping the toothpaste from his finger with a napkin. “I only sought to help.”

“No, it’s fine.” Gerome stiffly pulled out a chair and sat at their kitchen table. “What was it again that you needed?”

“Oh right!” Laurent had almost forgotten. “I seem to have run out of my usual coffee. I did not notice the lack until this morning. Would it be permissible for me to use some of yours?”

“Sure, as long as you like instant.” Gerome leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Go for it.”

“Splendid!” Laurent set his empty bag of coffee in the trash and turned back to their kitchen counter. He pulled the instant coffee towards him, eyeing its instructions on the side with a raised eyebrow.

“Just heat the water to boiling and dump in a spoonful.” Gerome explained. “It’s pretty difficult to mess up.”

“Certainly! I’ll make you some too.” Laurent set to work immediately, filling their kettle and placing it on their electronic burner. It was whistling soon enough. He grabbed their mugs. His was patterned with constellations, a gift offered to him from one of his friends who could not think of something else to buy him. He was an astrophysicist, but the star-themed gifts were starting to get old. Gerome’s was simple, white with a green bearded dragon stretched along its side. His mother had given it to him the year he had moved out and started caring for a lizard of his own. He set the two mugs side by side.

“Careful, the water might be too hot.” Gerome cautioned him. Laurent glanced back, noting the steam billowing from the kettle’s spout. He could hear the water boiling frantically, indicating that it had far surpassed the necessary heating level. He had left it on the burner for more than a few moments longer than required, it seemed.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Laurent poured the water into his mug first and then Gerome’s, steam billowing up and fogging his glasses. He carefully set the kettle back on the stove, opting for the less hot burner. Though he was experienced in navigating in the low visibility of obscured glasses, they weren’t helping him much like this. He slid them off, placing them on the counter behind him.

His next step, to pour in the coffee, should have resulted in a chemical reaction in the water. The instant coffee would meet hot water with a light fizz. If done at the correct temperature, a thin layer of foam should form. That was what Laurent knew from observing the many times Gerome had prepared the same coffee in front of him. But, when the grounds hit the water, it foamed with an alarming force. The water frothed thickly, rushing up and over the edge of his mug. He blinked dumbly, unable to perceive much past the spreading puddle of coffee.

Before he could react, Gerome was already dabbing at the mixture with napkins. “It must have been too hot.” He sighed as he wiped it away.

“My apologies.” Laurent hurried to snag a paper towel and help. “I misjudged the correct temperature for this task.”

“It’s alright.” Gerome gathered up the balls of coffee-soaked napkins. He offered his hand to Laurent, who blinked, not comprehending his meaning. Then, he realized belatedly that he was asking for trash. He dropped his slightly damp paper towel into his palm. As Gerome tossed it out, Laurent decided to sip at his coffee.

“Ugh,” He set the cup down with a grimace. “I burnt the grounds.”

“Unfortunate.” Gerome joined him back at the table. “I can handle the rest, if you like.”

Laurent sighed, suddenly feeling tired. It was not his morning if he couldn’t manage a simple task like preparing instant coffee. He waved his hand tiredly, a gesture that Gerome took as confirmation. Laurent remained at the table while Gerome took his place in the kitchen. After a moment, he felt a gentle tap at his shoulder and turned to see Gerome offering him his glasses. “You’ll get a headache if you keep these off for long.”

Laurent accepted them without a word because Gerome was right. He found it odd that he remembered even the smallest detail. And yet, that was characteristic of him. It was why they worked so well as roommates and friends. He found the resolve to give Gerome a small smile despite his annoyance over his failed coffee attempt.

After Gerome brought the mugs back into the kitchen, he refilled the kettle with hot water from the sink. It was not long before it was boiling once more. He removed the kettle promptly from the burner at its first cry and poured the water steadily – first into Laurent’s mug, then into his own. Laurent watched from the table, admiring how simple things were when Gerome did them. When he focused on something, it took up his whole attention. With his jaw set and his eyes trained before him, he tackled such tasks with an unshakeable focus. Laurent found himself watching Gerome’s careful movements, his lips turning up at the corners in an absent-minded smile. He enjoyed living with someone like him, he realized.

Gerome carried the mugs back to the table and noticed Laurent’s expression. “Is there something wrong?”

“Hm?” Laurent’s smile dropped. “No.”

“You were staring.”

Laurent shrugged. “I was merely observing. There’s nothing amiss, I assure you.” Even as he said it, he was not convinced by his own words. There was some odd emotion in his chest that he had not noticed before. Now that Gerome had pointed it out, he sensed it uneasily. However, he was not willing to examine that in this moment. He pushed the instant coffee to Gerome to distract from his blunder.

Gerome dropped the point, opting instead to pop open the lid on the container. He scooped coffee, one spoonful into each mug. The grounds met water with an aromatic fizz. Both had the thin layer of foam at the top that Laurent loved. His smile returned once more as Gerome finished each cup with a light stir of his spoon. He slid his mug before his seat, placing it atop a coaster. Then he lightly set the steaming cup before Laurent. Just the act felt domestic in a way that Laurent had not before realized. With the realization came a rush of affection. But he did not have long to linger on the emotion because Gerome surprised him. Instead of stepping away as soon as he gave him his mug, he leaned forward ever so slightly. Laurent felt a soft warmth on his forehead, followed by cold absence. He blinked once, then twice. Gerome had kissed his forehead.

The realization crashed into him in a sudden moment of shock, and he swung around to regard Gerome directly. He expected Gerome’s expression to be odd because the entire situation was odd. But he did not expect how flustered he looked, his eyes bright with embarrassment and his cheeks flushed. Before Laurent could ask, however, Gerome stumbled back into the kitchen.

“I just realized.” He glanced away, refusing to meet Laurent’s searching gaze. “I’m late for work.” And then the shuffle of his footsteps across carpet as he stepped into the foyer. His keys sounded, metal crashing against metal as he pulled them into his pocket. He swung the door open and its resounding snap echoed immediately after. He was gone but his presence still lingered in the room.

Laurent wondered distantly if he had enough time to pull on his shoes. It was the quickest he had ever seen Gerome flee a stressful situation, though it certainly was not the first time he had witnessed his friend so embarrassed. And then, he remembered the thing which had spurred his retreat. A kiss, as benign and natural as it was uncharacteristic. It fit so perfectly into their routine that Laurent almost had not noticed its disturbance.

“Huh.” He said his only response to the empty room, his mug still steaming beside Gerome’s.

* * *

“Fuck.” Gerome stood outside of his apartment door, the only barrier between him and Laurent. His roommate. Who he had just kissed.

It was a forehead kiss, so that was something. A fraying thread of redemption. Perhaps the damage was not irreparable?

But then he thought about it more and, no. There was no coming back from that. What excuse could he possibly come up with _? I felt so comfortable around you that it just came naturally. Ever since we’ve started living together you’ve felt like home. When I look at you sometimes, it’s so hard not to reach out, to hold you the way I want to—_

He mentally cut himself off because the only thoughts that came to mind now were terribly sincere and that was the last thing he needed. He stormed to the elevator and jabbed the button.

It was as he stepped out of the elevator and noticed another person staring at him that he realized it. He had left the apartment without his shoes. He had on socks at least, but that was hardly better than just walking barefoot.

“Fuck.” He said again. He also noticed that he was still in his large sleeping shirt when he saw the worn logo of a sports team distorted across his chest. The shirt, he couldn’t help. The shoes…perhaps there was hope yet. There was no way he could double back. He ran through his options and settled on actually coming in late to work. He shot a quick text to Morgan as he strode out of his apartment and towards his car.

His detour only left him about half an hour late to work. It was a Thursday, one of the busier days in the week. Yet his text to Morgan meant that he had someone covering his absence. Hopefully, his supervisor would not notice.

Gerome was one of the newer archivists in their department, so he could not afford to miss work often. Morgan, who was his senior by about a year, held more sway around the office. They both worked in collection development for the university archives, which was a massive collection that accounted for documents produced by any entity in the university. Student groups, separate schools and colleges, small sub-organizations, and alumni associations all fell under that annoyingly large umbrella.

The vastness of this university constantly irritated Gerome. He had received his associate’s degree from a small community college, then transferred into a university only marginally larger for his bachelor’s degree. His graduate work had been completed entirely online because he detested in-person classes and despised large groups of people in the same place. His years as a student had left him unprepared for the monster of a campus that was the University of Ylisse. Navigating a campus as large as this one was, simply put, torturous. He had hoped that since it was large, the crowds of people would disperse. There would be enough space for them, surely.

But this was the sort of university that boasted its huge population, holding its grandeur as a spectacle and a desirable trait. They seemed to accept as many students as possible each regrettable year. So the crowds never truly thinned. Bustling packs of students would always linger around crosswalks, which made driving during any busy period hazardous. He waited to turn at this intersection for what seemed like an eternity, his turn signal a stagnant pulse while droves of students passed by before him. But his patience paid off eventually as he found the necessary opening to pull into his assigned parking garage. And after the commute and braving the walk to his archive, he was content with the work. It paid well compared to other institutions, and he could spend most of his days alone, absorbed in his daily responsibilities.

Except today he could not hope to be alone, at least not for all of it. He grimaced when his fears were confirmed with a wave and nod from Morgan, who was hovering by his desk. Gerome pulled out his seat stiffly, not returning the greeting. Morgan was undeterred, pulling over a nearby office chair and joining with ease.

“So what was the hold up?” Morgan leaned his elbow on the desk, an impish smile on his face.

“It’s none of your business.” Gerome tried to keep his voice standoffish, but he could not manage it well with Morgan. Out of all the people he worked with, he disliked him the least. Their relationship was arguably one of convenient friendship, a habit formed over occupying the same office space for nearly two years. So when he replied, though he felt venomous he knew that he really just sounded tired.

“Ooh, is it something bad?” Morgan balanced his chin on both of his hands.

“Shouldn’t you be working somewhere?”

“I finished what I was doing a bit ago. That’s what happens when you come in to work on time, y’know.”

Gerome leveled an unamused glare at him. “An incident occurred between me and my roommate. I left the apartment in a hurry and…I didn’t have shoes, so I had to make a stop on the way over to the university.”

“Wait, why couldn’t you go back?” Morgan tilted his head. “Were you fighting or something?”

“…or something, yeah.” Gerome focused on his desktop, typing in his login with sharp keystrokes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Morgan looked like he was about to push the point further when he glanced over Gerome’s shoulder. Gerome followed his gaze to see Frederick fall into pace with one of their coworkers, walking in their direction. He was one of their more stringent supervisors, and often discouraged idle chatter in the office. Morgan, who’s favorite pastime was exactly that, took it as his cue to leave.

“Ok, well if you need anything you know where to find me.” Morgan quickly returned to his desk across the room before he was noticed. He left the office chair half in the aisle, though, and Gerome sighed as he wheeled it back to an unoccupied desk.

* * *

Laurent came into work on time that day, clocking in exactly five minutes before 8am. Despite his best intentions, he often ended up in meetings soon after clocking in. Today was no exception and he sighed as he checked his calendar and saw that today was his check-in meeting with Severa. He was feeling off, but he never wanted his emotional state to impact his work. Still, the thought of canceling crossed his mind for a brief moment. 

“What’s with you?” Severa asked as she walked into the meeting room. “You’re a wreck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your hair’s mess.” Severa pointed as she said this. Her finger drifted downward. “Your nerdy bowtie is crooked. And the buttons on your shirt are out of order.”

As she pointed out each flaw, Laurent quickly sought to correct it. He ran his fingers through his hair to arrange it with its usual neatness. He pulled his poorly tied bowtie apart, settling for it to remain undone for now. When she ended with the shirt, he merely sighed. He been so preoccupied worrying about the events from the morning, he hadn’t noticed that his buttons were offset by one. He looked a wreck indeed.

“I’ll have to step away and change that later.” He grimaced. “Must you always refer to my bowties as ‘nerdy’?”

“When you pick out the ones with goofy patterns? Yeah definitely.”

Laurent appraised his bowtie skeptically. It was bright blue, with little yellow stars dotted across the fabric. Thin white lines bridged between some of the stars, forming loose constellations. It was one of his favorites. He swallowed the despair such sentiment caused him and took a seat.

“It’s no matter.” He motioned for her to sit across from him. “Come now, we have work to attend to.”

Severa sat down with a snort. “As if I’m letting this go. This is the worst you’ve looked in…Damn, I can’t remember the last time I saw you messy. No, you’re telling me what’s up.” She leaned forward, her smile sharp. “C’mon, I know you want a second opinion. It’s gotta be something unexpected, random even. Am I right?”

He knew that Severa enjoyed listening to the follies of others. For her, it was entertainment. When she sensed drama, she circled above it much the same as vultures soaring above flat desert lands scouring the earth for rotting carcasses. But, she was also right. He did always like to rely on a second opinion.

“You are…well-versed in matters of romance, yes?”

Severa blinked, the smile fading in surprise. Whatever she had expected, this was not it. “I mean, yeah I guess. What, did you have a one night stand? A botched first date?”

“No, neither. I had a…misunderstanding?” Laurent tilted his head. “My roommate kissed me, I think.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘you think’? How do you not know if someone kissed you?” She was leaning forward now, chin balanced on her knuckles.

“Well, it was only on the forehead and it happened quickly and…I mean, I’m fairly certain it happened. I think it was on accident, however. Gerome did not linger after.”

“You have to provide more detail than that.” She said the phrase with a mock seriousness because it was a direct quote from many of their meetings over data tables. It was the perfect way to engage with Laurent, though, because he nodded with a focused gaze.

“Well,” Laurent tapped his chin. “He ran away, stating that he was late for work. However, his usual schedule is to depart fifteen minutes after I leave for work, and I still had a good ten minutes. So…”

“Oh, yeah he was avoiding you then.” Severa shrugged. “So what?”

Now Laurent was the one blinking in surprise. “Does this situation not sound emotionally strenuous to you?”

“Well, it was just a kiss. All you have to do is ask him if he’s into you or not.”

“Severa…” Laurent’s voice was strained. “You say that as if it’s an easy task.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh, because it is easy? It wouldn’t be hard unless you’re into him or something—”

At that Laurent flushed and Severa gasped. “Wait Laurent, are you interested in your roommate? Like romantically?” A devilish smile played at the edges of her lips. Laurent was now regretting even entertaining such a conversation with a co-worker of all people.

“I’m done discussing such personal matters.” He pulled his laptop before him, a thin barrier. “We need to review this research sometime.”

“But—”

“Please, let’s just move on.”

Severa glared at him for a moment before flipping open her own laptop with a sigh. “You’re no fun.”

“If maintaining proper productivity means that I lack fun, then so be it.”

* * *

Gerome managed to find an empty picnic table near the plaza outside of his library. Large universities seemed to love plazas and huge swathes of space for their club activities. Today, there was barely anyone out. He tried to time his lunches when he knew classes would be held, so as to avoid the rush of students. Sometimes Morgan accompanied him during lunch, but today he had sought solitude.

Since he had rushed from his apartment without packing a suitable lunch, he was eating the spare energy bar he kept in his desk. It did little to stave off his hunger since he had also skipped breakfast, but he did not feel like trekking across campus to the food court. The journey would cut into his lunch time and he was feeling tired enough as is. Frederick had given him the stink eye all morning, and had made a pointed statement during their staff meeting about the "proper professional attire appropriate for work." Gerome knew that rolling up to work in his oversized sleeping shirt was unwise, but it wasn't like he had much choice in the matter. Morgan had lent him his coat after that tense meeting, and he pulled it around him now to fend off the chill of late autumn. The fabric pulled against his broad shoulders uncomfortably as he tried to think of something else besides the multiple embarrassing moments he’d endured throughout the day so far. He would rather not remember any of the mess that was his morning, both at work and home.

So, he scrolled through various feeds on his phone. There was not any one thing he was looking for – just a distraction. Each time the memory flashed in his mind, of Laurent’s shocked expression, his held breath as he struggled to comprehend Gerome’s misguided action, his stomach dropped. He was better off not thinking about it.

Yet, the concern was weighing on his mind. Regardless of how much he scrolled on his phone, his eyes glazed over. He kept returning to that moment this morning, the calm, contentment he had felt as he leaned over Laurent and pressed his lips to his forehead. And then, the fallout immediately after, his retreat, and now his restless day at work. He happened across a post on one of his feeds from his friend, and an idea formed in his mind.

It was Brady’s day off. He normally worked long shifts, so this was a rare opportunity for Gerome. He usually only spoke to Brady in between memes and posts they sent one another. They had not had a long-winded conversation for several weeks, not since the last time they went out for happy hour drinks together. It wasn’t something Gerome liked, but Brady enjoyed unwinding over discounted food, so Gerome put up with it. And, well, Brady was a dependable person. He was the only one who Gerome had told about his inconvenient feelings for Laurent.

He followed the impulse before he chickened out.

“Gerome?” Brady answered on the first ring. “Why are ya calling me?”

“I need your help.” He did not mean to sound so grave, but the dread of explaining his situation gave his words additional weight. “I made a mistake.”

“Wait, what?” He heard the sound of shuffling as Brady scooted the phone from one shoulder to the other. He was probably multitasking as usual. “Who died?”

“No one.” Gerome sighed sharply. “Perhaps my dignity.”

“Can you just explain? I know I’m a smart guy but I can’t read your mind.”

“I kissed Laurent.”

A beat of silence. “So, uh, how’d that go?”

“How well do you think, if I’m calling you for help?” Gerome’s reply was quick, sardonic.

“Alright, alright, no need to get snappy.” Brady said. “Well, I need the details. How’d it happen?”

The question prompted Gerome to remember and as he did, he returned to that moment fully for the first time. He had been amused, first by Laurent trying and failing to make coffee. Then, he had caught Laurent staring, his smile placid. He had found it endearing, and that was probably what put him at ease. As he set the cup before Laurent, it was a mere reflex to lean down, to press his lips against his forehead. He had briefly forgotten that they were nothing more than friends and roommates, caught up in the idle comfort of the moment. And then he drew back with the realization burning like a brand pressed against his back. And then Laurent swung around with a look of shock. And then he ran.

Gerome did his best to explain and Brady groaned by the end of it.

“Did you really have to book it right after?”

Gerome grimaced. “What was I supposed to do?”

“I dunno, maybe explain yourself? Tell him how ya feel? This is only delaying the inevitable, bud.” Brady sighed. “I mean, at least you didn’t kiss him right on the mouth but uh, a kiss on the forehead ain’t exactly common between friends.”

“Is there any excuse I could give?” Gerome leaned his head on his palm.

“An excuse that would cover up your long-standing crush on the guy? Nah, I think you’re screwed.”

Gerome groaned this time. “You’re not helping.”

“What do you want from me?” He heard the phone shift again, as Brady most likely ran a hand through his hair. “Look, why are you so afraid to just come clean?”

“Because if he rejects me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You’ll be an adult and respect his choice, that’s what you’ll do.” Brady’s tone was harsh but Gerome knew he was right. “It’s not the end of the world buddy. If he doesn’t like you back, it saves you the time wanting something that’s not gonna happen.”

Gerome grumbled. “You’re right. I guess I’m overreacting.” He sighed. “I haven’t cared this much about another person in a while.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Brady replied, the smile clear in his voice. “It’s kind of cute, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this into someone.”

“Please stop.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll keep it to myself. I hope it works out for you, though.” Gerome almost smiled at his friend’s encouragement. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Brady asked.

“Uh, well..” It had been, but he felt guilty admitting it. “How have things been with you?”

He took a few minutes to catch up with Brady. Even if Gerome wasn’t the most socially adept, he still took the time to care for those he was close with. He didn’t want to be that friend who only called to dump all of his problems before the other person, without the common courtesy to at least ask about their day. Brady started telling him about this new coworker at his job. The guy was fresh out of medical school, so his bedside manner was awful. This is not always a big problem in general clinics, but in a pediatrician’s office it’s definitely an issue. Then Brady lapsed into more everyday moments from his job, sharing a few amusing anecdotes. They ended the call with a promise to catch up some more over happy hour sometime.

“Not tonight though.” Brady reminded him.

“I know,” Gerome said grimly. “I’m going to do it. I’ll tell him tonight.”

“You better!” Brady was very good at forceful encouragement, much to Gerome’s disdain. “Alright, see you around.” The phone call ended with a click and Gerome let out a long sigh.

“Oooh, is this about your incident?”

Gerome startled as a voice sounded behind him. He whipped around to face Morgan who was trotting up to his table.

“No. None of your business.” Gerome shoved his phone back into his pocket. “What do you want?”

“Geez, always grouchy with you.” Morgan sat beside him, offering him a bag of chips. “This came with my lunch but I wasn’t feeling it. Do you want it?”

Gerome looked at him skeptically. “Whenever you approach me with food, it’s because you have bad news.”

“Guilty as charged.” Morgan slid the bag of chips over with a laugh. Gerome warily picked up the 50% off peace offering. “Frederick wanted me to remind you about our committee meeting today. You haven’t responded to the calendar invite for it yet.”

Gerome frowned. “That’s today?”

“Yep! We only meet once a month so make sure you don’t miss it.”

He grumbled. His committee work was something he was still adjusting to, and he often forgot about meetings until the day of. It didn’t help that they tended to run long, forcing him to leave work much later than usual. As he and Morgan walked back to work together, Gerome pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Laurent.

* * *

**Gerome:** Don’t expect me for dinner.

Laurent blinked at the text, stunned by its candor. He hadn’t checked his phone until he had already arrived home, and now he stood staring dumbly at it.

He and Gerome normally shared dinner, often taking turns to cook for one another. It was Laurent’s turn that night and he had been looking forward to dinner so they could discuss…whatever it was that happened this morning. He had even changed his recipe from his usual stir fry to a more adventurous dish with braised lamb. The thought had occurred to him over lunch, as he realized that he would most likely see Gerome next over dinner. And perhaps to smooth over the trials of their morning, a fresh recipe would put him at ease. He had even stopped on the way home to purchase some extra ingredients – fresh lamb, rosemary, a nice bottle of red wine. He had been hoping to try the recipe out for some weeks now, and it seemed the perfect opportunity. Should he reflect on it further, he would recognize that anxiety left him restless. Such energy spurred him forth, and he found the busy aisles of the grocery store during peak business hours comforting in its distraction. Focusing on something tangible, like a new recipe for dinner, helped marginally.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts, he had not thought to check his phone. It was not until he had pushed open the door that he noticed the absence of Gerome’s keyring from their door stand.

“Gerome?” He stumbled from the threshold, balancing grocery bags on either arm. The door slammed shut behind him. The apartment was dark, save for stripes of waning sunlight stretching out from behind the blinds. Laurent set down the groceries, pulled out his phone to call Gerome, and saw the message.

It was not exactly confirmation that Gerome was avoiding him. It could be any number of things—perhaps he had a friend ask him to go out for dinner, or he had to work overtime. Laurent knew that it was not concrete evidence of Gerome avoiding him, but despite his rationalizing he could not help but worry that it was related to their botched morning.

He sighed and began putting away the groceries. He would have to save the fancy lamb for another night. Stir fry, then.

He busied his hands with chopping vegetables. The rhythmic action helped distract him well enough. When it came to chopping ingredients, he enjoyed measuring out each careful slice of his blade. He was accident prone when it came to cooking, and he knew that accidents only increased in likelihood when he rushed a dish.

He worked slowly, half hoping that if he lingered long enough Gerome might arrive in time to eat with him. But as he slid the last pile of chopped vegetables from the cutting board, he noticed the late hour. He sighed and turned on the burner.

Laurent hummed to himself as he cooked. He added each spice slowly, building up his flavors until he was satisfied with the blend. Before turning off the heat, he shook in a bit of extra ginger into the dish, since he knew that’s how Gerome preferred it. He piled some stir fry over a bed of rice for himself, and then packed away the remaining leftovers in a plastic container, should Gerome want some. He was used to making just enough for two people at this point.

After eating, Laurent lingered around the main area of their apartment. He scrolled on his phone mindlessly. He wanted to wait for Gerome so that they could talk things over. However, he was nervous over the whole affair. The likely possibility that Gerome intended on avoiding him stayed rooted in his mind. No matter what visual he placed before himself on his phone, he kept circling back to that concern. Refreshing the same feeds only passed so much time and he hated feeling restless. He left his phone on their coffee table and decided to reorganize their spice rack. The motion of moving the containers, sorting them by color then stacking them side by side in ascending order of height, calmed him. When he ran out of spices to sort, he moved to the pantry. He was halfway through categorizing their boxes of pasta when he heard the lock turn.

He glanced around the corner of their kitchen and made eye contact with Gerome, who looked exhausted. His keys clattered into the bowl dissonantly. It made the following silence all the more heavy.

“Welcome home.” Laurent tried to sound amiable, but the words stuck in his throat. “I was, erm, just-”

“Reorganizing the pantry again?”

“Yes.” He had confided in Gerome early on in their cohabitation that organizing and sorting helped him with his anxiety. He felt a little vulnerable to confirm it in the moment, considering that the very obvious source of that anxiety was now avoiding his gaze in their threshold.

Gerome shrugged off his jacket and slid off his shoes. As he placed them on the shoe rack, Laurent blinked in surprise.

“Are those new shoes?” Gerome’s jaw tightened.

“A gift.”

“For what? Your birthday’s not for months.”

Gerome’s frown was firm as he joined Laurent in the kitchen. “You’re being nosy.”

“Ah, I suppose so. Pardon my rudeness.” Laurent turned back to his boxes. If he was going to blunder, he would rather mess up his pasta sorting.

“It’s fine.” Gerome strode past him and opened the fridge. “Did you go shopping?”

“Yes! I was planning on making braised lamb chops, but I had not yet seen your text. It’s alright though, I’m sure they’ll taste just as good tomorrow.” He was surprised to see Gerome’s frown deepen. His gaze lingered on the freshly bought groceries, his features weighted down with a peculiar expression.

“I’m sorry about missing dinner.”

Laurent switched the configuration of boxes without missing a beat. “It’s no problem. I’m sure you had good reason.”

“I had to stay late for committee work.” Gerome sighed as he shut the fridge door. “You have to tolerate committees if you work in libraries.”

“I thought you were an archivist?”

Gerome shrugged. “An archivist who works in a library. Call it what you want.” He made to walk by Laurent once more, this time to leave. But he hesitated at the threshold.

“Do you want to talk?” Gerome said this to his turned back. Laurent froze, glancing behind without turning his head.

“Is that you would like?”

Gerome rubbed the back of his neck, his face pointed away. “I asked you first.”

“We can.” Laurent placed the rest of his boxes in makeshift order. He could perfect it later. He shut the door with a snap as he turned to face Gerome. “So, about this morning…”

“I can explain that.” Gerome leaned away from him, against the kitchen counter.

Laurent dipped his head. “Very well.”

“This morning I was…” Gerome coughed into his hand. “I was enjoying my time with you. We don’t always wake up at the same time, so it was nice. To be up around the same time, I mean.” He paused for a moment, struggling with his words. “And I may have gotten comfortable and…carried away.” His eyes remained fixed downward, boring holes into the floor with the intensity of his embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” Laurent was genuinely curious. Gerome’s gaze flickered up to meet Laurent’s. He could not place the emotion in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.” Gerome said. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Not uncomfortable, no. Just surprised.” Laurent took a step toward him. “It was pleasant, actually.”

Gerome remained perfectly still, his face bearing an imperceptible expression. Laurent usually was able to read him well, but in this moment he was having trouble. He had an inkling of what lingered beneath the surface of his facade. There was evidence enough of Gerome’s interest in the way his breath caught as Laurent neared, the way his fingers twitched on the counter as if holding back. So Laurent took another step, his hand rising cautiously to the edge of Gerome’s jaw.

“Did you kiss me just because you were happy in the moment?” Laurent asked. Gerome’s gaze wavered, restless. “There wasn’t another reason?”

“There might have been.” Gerome’s voice was low, almost a whisper. He finally met Laurent’s eye with intent. “May I kiss you again? Properly, this time?”

The question hung in the air between them, slowing the moment with the potential it held. He felt Gerome’s gaze burning into him. Laurent traced the bottom of Gerome’s lip with his thumb, almost pensively. However, he had already made his decision on this matter.

“Please.” His answer was a murmur, but Gerome still heard, still knew from the look in Laurent’s eye. He felt Gerome surge to meet him and pulled him close. His eyes fluttered shut with an exhale, his breath mixing with Gerome’s in the same moment. Laurent drew him into his arms, and Gerome leaned against his embrace as if he had long belonged there. Gerome’s hands cradled either side of Laurent’s jaw, holding him firmly. His mind went blank, the only thought running through it the feel of Gerome’s lips against his, the brush of his fingers against his cheek, the warmth of his body a constant, consuming heat.

It was only when Gerome deepened the kiss, tilting his head as he did so, that reality sunk and Laurent realized with a stir of his heart that he was kissing his roommate. Not only that, but he was also enjoying it. He pushed thoughts of what this might mean to the edges of his mind, choosing instead to ground himself in the moment against Gerome’s touch. He was a bit disappointed when they finally broke apart, but such thoughts soon dissipated when he saw the look in Gerome’s eye. He hadn’t seen him this violently happy before, as if his heart were a lantern shining through his eyes.

Then the moment passed and it dimmed. Gerome grew reserved once more, realizing himself with a slight exhale. “Was that okay?”

He sounded insecure and the thought made Laurent indignant. “That,” he said emphatically, cupping Gerome’s cheek with his hand. “was excellent. Stellar. An amazing first kiss, on all counts.”

Gerome had only been lightly blushing before, but now he flushed bright red. He grew bashful under the deluge of praise. “Surely it wasn’t that good.”

“No it was, I assure you.” Laurent leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Was it enjoyable for you?”

Gerome nodded, his eyes trained on Laurent cautiously. He did the same thing that Laurent had done before, passing his thumbs over Laurent’s lips with a curious look. Laurent realized with a jolt that it was desire.

“What’s on your mind?” Laurent asked softly beneath his touch. Gerome pulled away, but his eyes lingered on him.

“Is this okay?” Gerome’s voice was uncertain again. “We live together. It would be foolish to make a mess of our relationship.”

“It does carry with it a certain amount of risk.” Laurent admitted. “But any romantic relationship has the potential to fail, correct? If this one turns out badly, we will do our best to remain civil, I trust?”

“Yes.” Gerome nodded. Still, words seemed to linger on his lips. “Do you want to uh…”

“We don’t have to put a label on it just yet.” Laurent said easily, as if reading his mind. “Let’s do what feels natural.”

“Ok.” Gerome brushed his thumb along Laurent’s cheek. “I feel like kissing you again.”

“Mhm,” Laurent leaned in, closing the space between them. “Me as well.” He murmured against Gerome’s lips. However, a light grumble sounded and Laurent realized it came from Gerome’s stomach. He pulled away quickly, leaving Gerome standing for a moment with his eyes closed, fully expecting a kiss. He blinked in surprise at Laurent who stood away from him, arms crossed.

“Did you eat?” His question was only a little sharp. Gerome leaned back against the kitchen counter.

“It was a meeting, not a potluck.”

“You didn’t grab food on the way home?”

“I…” Gerome scratched the back of his head. “I wanted to see you.”

Laurent sighed, striding towards their refrigerator. He opened it and pulled out the container with leftovers from the dinner that he had eaten alone. “Here,” he said, pushing it into Gerome’s hands. “I put some aside for you. Would you please eat?”

Gerome mumbled affirmatively, popping the lid off and sliding it into the microwave. A few minutes later, he was sitting across from Laurent, taking careful bites of stir fry.

“Thanks.” Gerome said. “You always do stuff like this.”

“What?”

“Keeping me in mind. It’s kind of you.”

“It’s nothing special. I merely like to take care for those who are important to me.” Laurent realized his words once he said them and glanced away. “It’s not deeply significant.”

“It is to me.” Laurent glanced back and Gerome was looking at him intently again. “You make it hard to not care about you, you know.”

“I…” Laurent was offput by the genuineness in his voice. “I mean, if you care for me, I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Gerome took another bite of the stir fry. “I’ll keep it up then.”

Laurent nodded, a fond smile playing at the edges of his lips. “As will I.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I told you that the scenario of Laurent burning the grounds for his instant coffee and having it explode in his face was based on my own lived experience would you believe me
> 
> also yeah I made gerome an academic archivist because I wanted to, no particular reason aside from I have thoughts about how he would react to that sort of career (I think the work would suit him and I think he would absolutely hate committee work so glad I could work that in lmao)
> 
> and as always, thanks for reading! I’m happy that at least a few people still care about gerolau fic so long after the game came out/the fandom was active. find me [on twitter](https://twitter.com/wyvernknighted) clowning over gerolau and other rarepairs.


End file.
